A Lone Wolf
by Ookami100
Summary: Marie Lawrence, after 7 years away from the island of New Providence, has finally returned, now a young woman with some very dark secrets. Will Captain Vane recognize the girl-turned woman, or will he only remember the girl she use to be, if even that? And what of his 'promise' she could join his crew when he became a captain? Does she plan to hold him to it? Yes, yes she does.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: As this takes years before the main storyline, Vane is a bit out of character. People do change with age, and I wasn't completely sure how'd he'd act in this situation and time frame. Also, this is just how he met Marie, who is a very strange girl indeed.**

* * *

1708:

Charles Vane, a younger Charles Vane, lay on one of the beaches of New Providence island, in and out of consciousness.

Vane groaned, head pounding, and cursed the glaring light piercing through his eyelids. He shfited slightly, attempting to make himself more comfortable on his bed and stopped...This wasn't his bed...Something wasn't right. Where the hell was he? A shadow passed over him, thank fully blocking out the damn light. If it stayed there, he could probably sleep again..

"Mister? Are you alright...?" The soft concerned voice broke through his sleepy thoughts, and he opened his eyes to see a young girl crouched above him. She was framed by the sun, making it a bit hard to look at her. Wide, large golden-brown eyes stared down at him with a child's curiousity. Her reddish-brown curls were tumbling free from someone's attempt at pig tails, and the end of one was almost brushing his cheek. She had the promise of being a beauty when she grew older, but all that paled in the fact that she was disturbing his rest.

"What the hell do you want?" He growled up at her. She blinked in surprise, then narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, I was concerned with your well being, to be honest, as I never found a man passed out on a beach before. I thought you were dead until you groaned. Were you jumped by someone?" He closed his eyes, willing the child to disappear.

"No..." He sat up, and she barely scrambled out of the way. He looked around, and yes, he was on a beach. Fuck. "I was drunk.." Why was he explaining himself to a child? He looked at her in contempt, hoping it'd make her leave.

She stared up at him, head tilted to the side. Her light blue down was torn around the hem, and covered in what appeared to be fresh stains. Whoever she belonged to won't be pleased...

"Are you a pirate?" Her question caught him off gaurd, and he could only stare dumbly at her for a second. Finally, he nodded slightly. "Ooh! Are you a captain?"

"..Not yet, but I will be."

"When you're a captain, can I join your crew?" She stared up at him with such eager innocence, he almost smiled. Instead he raised an eyebrow, and snorted, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, go for it. We'll see how it works out." She flashed him a radient smile of pure childish pleasure, and he sobered, feeling a pang from a memory he just couldn't bury. Then the smile faded as quickly as it came, the girl suddenly turning serious.

"You're not lying, right? Or suddenly going to laugh and tell me a girl can't be anything more than someone's wife?" She furrowed her brow at the thought. He wondered who had told her that, and leaned back on his hands.

"No." He looked up at the clear sky, eyeing a sea gull with unhidden dislike. She followed his gaze for a moment.

"Do you hate birds?"

"I hate sea gulls."

"But they let you know when you're approaching land."

"Still hate them."

"How odd...I envy them. They're so free."

"...How old are you?" The question was sudden, and he wasn't quite sure where it came from, but he was curious.

"That's an even odder thing. Never ask a lady her age!" She exclaimed with mock shock. "But if must know, I'm 12." She'll be some nobleman's wife some day, he could tell that right off.

"...12?" He looked at her for a moment; short, much too short to be 12, even for a girl, all childish roundness, yet she was skinny. "You look 9..." She flared up, eyes flashing dangerously as she pulled herself up to her full sitting height.

"I am 12. I'm just short is all!" He didn't bother to answer, and stood up, stretching. She stood as well, dusting off her dress, lips pursed in a fine line.

Vane turned and started to walk away, dismissing her from his mind.

"Ah! Where are you going?"

"Back to my ship."

"Can I come?" She trotted on after him.

"No."

"Awww...Well, can I at least know your name?"

"Charles."

"Charles what? No Last Name?" Her voice was slightly sarcastic, and he felt his temper turning slightly, but he kept it in check.

"Vane. Charles Vane.."

"Ah..! Well." She slipped infront of him, forcing him to stop for a moment. "I'm Marie Lawrence. A pleasure to meet you." She curstied, and he stepped around her, continuing on his way.

* * *

Marie stared after the man for a moment, then turned, heading back for Nassau. A grin spread across her face as she ran along, deciding to tell her brother all about her encounter. Their father forbade them to go near any 'dangerous' men, but she didn't care. It was exciting, more exciting than most of this journey.

"I'm going to be a pirate!" She whispered to herself, and her grin widened.

For the four days she revisited that beach everyday, and was rewarded when she ran into Vane again on her fourth day.

* * *

"Charles!" Vane groaned at the sound of his voice being called by the child's voice, and turned to see Marie racing towards him. She skidded to a stop next to him, and fell to her knees. Today her hair was loose, falling to her waist, and she was dressed in pink. It didn't suit her at all. She was golden from the constant sunshine to boot.

"...What the fuck are you doing here?" She stared up at him amount, as if shocked he'd ask her such an outrageous question.

"...How dare you use such foul language!" She hissed at him, and he sighed. "Also, I can go where I please. The beach isn't just yours." He narrowed his eyes at her, and looked ahead at the ocean. "I was hoping to find you though. I was wondering if you can tell me what its like being a pirate."

"...No."

"What? Why?"

"Why are you so interested?" He snapped at her. She glared up at him.

"Because I am! I've grown up hearing nothing but ill about pirates, and I want to know if thats true. Plus, if I ever reach my dream of being one someday, I should have some prior knowledge.." He glared down at her, lip curling up slightly, then sighed. Might as well humor her. Maybe some horror stories would make her despise the idea of becoming a pirate.

How very wrong he was.

"That is...Wow." She stared up at him, wide eyed. "Really? That sounds so...dangerous!"

"It is. S-"

"But so thrilling at the same time! Terrifying too. Do you guys plan any strategies or anything?" Vane raised an eyebrow, and eyed the girl next to him feeling a little respect for the girl. He told her gruesome stories, and she wanted to know if they planned their attacks. Didn't even bat an eyelash...Maybe she'll reach that 'dream' of hers.

For the next week or so, Marie met Vane on that beach almost everyday to pester him with more with questions about pirates. He could have stopped coming, but he didn't, and was there, expect one time, at the same time every day.

On the sixth day, Vane walked to the spot, taking a swig from his bottle of rum. He slowed to a stop, noting that Marie had beaten him today. He was about to call out to her, but stopped himself, realizing something was wrong. He resumed walking, face hardening slightly and becoming devoid of emotion.

Her back was too him, sitting and hunched over slightly., He stopped a couple feet behind him. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, and locks of her thick long hair lay around her, the remainder stopping just below her ears.

"Marie." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Meant to get her attention. She leapt to her feet, spinning around, and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. In the process, she dropped the knife she was holding, and just burried her face in the chest/stomach area of the shocked pirate. It was then he realized she was crying.

Something took over then, and he wrapped his arms around the girl, pursing his lips in a hard line. What the fuck had happened?

"What the hell is wrong?" He growled down at her. She sniffled and didn't look up at him.

"Why was I born a girl?" She whispered. He narrowed his eyes to slits, but kept silent for a moment. "We're..returning to England..and Father has picked out my future husband and everything...And he..teaches things to my brother...like fighting...but they all..." Vane felt his temper stirring again, at this girl and at her family. The girl was barely 12 years old, and her father was already set to ship her off? She wasn't even physically 12, in his personal opinion. He let her keep talking.

"Mother isn't a help...I wouldn't mind it all..so much if they at least...treated me like I had a brain!...Not just some girl to be sold to the highest bidder!" She wailed the last bit, and he resisted the urge to clamp a hand over her mouth. Damn her to hell. "I'm not suited for this life...I know I'm still a child bu...but! I wish I was a boy...or at least born to a different family...I know...other kids have it harder than me, espeically poorer kids...but...I envy them..." She sniffled, and all his anger redirected at her. She envies them? "They...they lead hard lives, I know...however, they have a freer life...a..."

Vane growled, letting her go as he grabbed her wrists and knocked her to the ground, following her and pinning the girl. She fell silent, staring up at him, wide-eyed; she shut up, good.

"Listen to me, girl." He whispered to her, eyes glittering dangerously. "Don't say such bullshit again. What the fuck do you know? You have a lot more than those kids have, and they probably hate you're rich ass for it. You have food, every night, a family that cares about you, which is more than some of them can say right there. You never have to worry about clothes, where you'll live, anything. Yet you envy them because your family wants you to marry well? Fuck you!" He took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly.

Marie just stared up at him, shocked to the core of her being. He glanced back down at her, and loosened his grip on her wrists, pushing away from her.

"Before you start talking fucking bull, think about what the hell you're saying. Fight marriage all you want, fight the life they have laid out infront of you. But never talk like that again." He stood up, and held a hand out to her. She hesitantly took it, and he didn't blame her. He'd scared her and he knew it.

"Maaarie!" Someone was looking for her.

"Go." Vane ordered, and picked up her knife, handing it to her. She took it, and wiped at her eyes with one hand before giving him a slight smile.

"..Thank you.." He blinked, then watched her turn and race away. He stood after a moment, then picked up his rum bottle, eyeing the sand in it, and shrugged. Oh well.

It would be years before he'd see her again.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - 1715, 4 Months Prior to the start of the show.**

Marie stood on the bow of the merchant's ship she managed to secure passage on. If the captain wasn't her cousin...She sighed softly, and gazed to the island on the horizon. New Providence Island... She thought back to the last time she was here, and the strange pirate she met there on a beach. She heard rumors of him recently, and she wondered if they were true, or if they were even the right man. She wondered thought why a man like him had ever humored her and her antics.

"Does he even remember me? Or our conversation about me joining his crew..hm.." She leaned against the railing, and adjusted her hood as they drew closer to the island. She wanted to pass unnoticed for now, until she got her bearings. Seven years is a long time, after all.

* * *

Captain Vane sat a table in the tavern, nursing a mug of rum. Tomorrow he'd back on the _Ranger,_ back at sea, hunting. For now though he had to spend another night in this fucking place. He glared over the top of his mug at the source of his troubles.

Eleanor Guthrie.

Small, slender, gentle curves...Her beautiful blonde hair was yanked back in one of those 'up-does' of hers, making her appear more severe. She had hard blue eyes that brightened wonderfully when she was passionate about something.

Damn her.

Vane downed the rest of his rum, slamming the mug on the table. He stood, knowing he caught the notice of some people. Turning, he headed for the door; he needed some fresh air. As he reached the exit, a small cloaked form slipped in past him.

Glancing after the person, he watched them head over to Eleanor. With a snort, he strolled outside, shooting a glance up at the sun as it made its slow descent. Nightfall, then dawn again. He felt a brief shiver of excitement at the coming hunt as he strolled down the street.

* * *

Marie sighed as she sat down in a chair facing Eleanor's desk. It took her a minute, but Eleanor joined her, closing the door firmly behind her.

"Well, Marie...I was wondering when you would finally grace me with your presence." She walked to her seat and sat down, eyeing the young woman seated across from her. "I've heard a few rumors of late that I assume are your doing?"

"Are you referring to what happened in London?"

"...London...? No, I was referring to Boston."

"Ah...Boston. Beautiful this time of year I hear." Marie said easily, ignoring the matter at hand.

"Marie...Why are you here?"

"Hm? Why? I figured that I'd visit one of the few places I actually _liked_ when growing up. Plus, I wanted to see you. I mean, we haven't seen eachother in _seven years_. Can't blame a girl for wanting to stop by, can you?"

"Bull shit. Why are you really here?" Eleanor eyed her with the cold calculation of a woman use to getting what she wanted, no matter the means to do so.

"You've grown up to be quite pleasent." Marie said dryily. "Fine, I have something I need to do and to do it I need a certain pirate. If he remembers me, and if I can get him to remember a promise that wasn't really a 'promise' he made me once."

"Vane.." Eleanor breathed, and nearly groaned out loud. "Which promise would _that_ be?"

"To join his crew. When I met him I asked him if he'd let me join his crew when he became a captain. He said we'd see how it went or something if I remember correctly, and I spent every minute after that when around him in an attempt to get him to make it into a official promise. Which he 'sorta' agreed to."

"He's a smart man. An uncontrolled, foul one, but still smart. If he remembers you, _or_ that 'promise', he will probably also remember how 'unoffical' it is. Besides, pirates don't tend to be true to their word..."

"You sound like you speak from experience. But, I'm not overly concerned. I think I can convince him. I just need a bit of ti-"

"He sets sail again tomorrow."

"...Or a few hours...I did pass him on my way in, yes?"

"You actually remember what he looks like?"

"Not as tall as I remember, I was very short though, and a bit more muscular, but yes, I do. He also seems a bit more haggard...It suits him." She shrugged slightly, and Eleanor pursed her lips, standing.

"I don't know what you expect me to help you with."

Marie ignored that, standing up herself, and headed for the door.

"Thank you for what assisstance you have been. Now...I have to go find him."

"Marie, he has a temper. Be careful."

* * *

Strolling along a beach, Captain Vane kicked at a stone. What the hell was he doing out here? Fresh air? Fuck. He stopped and gazed out towards the horizon, wishing he was out there _now_. If it wasn't all these last minute details...

"Charles?" The voice was soft, and clearly a womans. He turned to see who used his first name so familiarly, and saw the small cloaked form. "Ah, but it'd be Captain Vane now, wouldn't it?" She said, correcting herself as she reached up and pulled the hood down, shaking her head to free her hair in the process.

Thick, curly, russet hair tumbled free of the loose bun it had been pulled in for the hood, falling around her shoulders and down her back. She brushed a strand from her face with a quick, delicate flick of her wrist and turned her large eyes upon him. They were golden brown, framed with thick curling lashes; the look and coloring of them reminded him acutely of a wolf, such intelligence, yet with the appearence of always 'hunting'. For what, he couldn't say. Her soft, full mouth was trying hard not to curve up into a tempting smile as she crossed her arms over her chest. Something tugged at the back of his mind, but he ignored it, eyeing the woman.

"So, Captain Vane...Do you know who I am...?" It took him a second to realize she had spoken, so intently was he following the soft, angular lines of her face. His blue eyes met her golden ones.

"Should I..?" He dropped his gaze to her feet, and derliberty slowly ran them back up her body. She was dressed in a pair of snug pants, tugged into knee high boots. She also wore a loose dark blue shirt that contrasted with her hair wonderfully. She was curvy, he could tell that, though she did appear to be rather lacking in the breast area.

"Charles!" Her voice lashed through his thoughts like a whip, causing his eyes to fly up to hers. Surprise, and anger flashed in his blue eyes as he noted her reproachful look. "My eyes are up _here_, not hidden somewhere in my shirt, nor between my legs." She hadn't raised her voice, but the tone was cold, and it was said in a manner that left no room for arguement.

Vane snorted, and crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing with cool disdain. Who the fuck did she think she was? He opened his mouth to reply to her statement, but the woman cut him off.

"Now, I actually _didn't_ expect you to remember. Its been quite a few years, almost a decade honestly, and I was a child then... However I had hoped you'd remember me." She sighed and glanced around. "I think finding you here was quite perfect, though. I do remember meeting you on a beach...Maybe it was this one.."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Hm? Ah, do forgive me. My name, since you forgot it, is Marie Lawrence." She flashed him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but the name was familiar. As was the smile. He just..couldn't quite place them. "And I'm here, before you ask, to see if you'll fullfil a promise you made me when I first met you."

He narrowed his eyes at her. A promise? From nearly a decade ago? The name was certainly familiar, and these was something familiar about the way she was eyeing him eyes though...

"What promise?"

"To join your crew if you became a captain." He blinked, something clicking in the back of his mind. For a moment he saw as she use to be, a too short young girl with messy pigtails, constantly ripping her dresses, and a dream to become a pirate, by apparently joining his crew. No, she couldn't join his crew. Not this girl. So he snorted, smirking at her.

"No."

"No? Well, why not?" She glared at him, then shook her head slightly, softening her gaze.

"I sail tomorrow, I know nothing about you, and your a woman. The crew barely likes having Anne around." He shrugged slightly as if this settled matters.

"I can fight, I can sail fairly well, and the crew doesn't have to know I'm a woman."

"What are you going to do? Cut your hair? Wear looser pants? A different shirt? Never let anyone near you for months? How do I even know you're not lying to me?"

"I am more apt at dressing like a man than you think. Also, you don't, but I can prove I'm _not_ lying. Besides, you may not remember it, but _I_ do. You promised me, and I don't like broken promises."

_Bull shit. I didn't promise you a fucking thing._ He pursed his lips, and started to walk past her.

"No."

Marie spun around and glared after the insolent man.

"Captain Vane! I'll make you a deal. Take me with you when you sail tomorrow, put me to work with your crew as _one_ of them. However, if you think I'm not worth it, when we return here...You don't have to pay me a damn cent and can send me on my merry way."

He stopped, and smiled slightly, sighing. He looked over at her, eyes blazing, nostrils flared, and her hands were even on her hips. But he could see she meant it. His mind flickered back to the small girl and he looked at her again for a moment. Young, inexperienced, and too obviously female. What would his crew think? What if she caused another's death due to her inexperience?

"The answer is still no."

Marie watched him walk away from her, and she wanted to scream. Damn him! She remembered Eleanor's final warning: The man had a temper. Well, so does she! And Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No, she'd bide her time. This wasn't the last time she'd see him. She would convince him to let her join his crew yet. All she'd have to do is prove herself here, on this island.

Besides, it wasn't like she had a time limit on this job.

* * *

**Author's Note: I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I think Captain Vane is quite a bit more in-character here :P Minus the fact he pretty much kept his temper in check what with her cutting him off. But he has proven he can behave, _sometimes_. XD**


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! I re-wrote so much of this so many times...Ugh. XD...Hope you like it though! and ty for the reviews :3**

* * *

**Later that same evening.**

"He _still_ refused. I offer myself as an addition to his crew for _free_, and he _still_ refused! The man is impossible!" Marie paced back and forth in Eleanor's office, waving her hands as she ranted. At the last part she spun around to stare exasperated at the other woman. "I mean...Come on." She sat down in a huff, blowing a strand of hair from her face. Eleanor smiled slightly, and shook her head.

"I did try and warn you. What would you have me do?"

"Heeelp me. I almost gave up, but I refuse to. How _dare_ he deny me even the chance."

"Marie, you are asking one of the strongest pirate captains on this island to take you, an inexperienced, young, unruly _girl_ into his crew without any knowledge about you. No, let me rephrase that. You are _demanding_ that he do it."

"When you say it that way it sounds pretty bad...But, Eleanor, I _have_ to get on his crew. It's the only way to finish this one job.." Eleanor sighed heavily, and leaned back in her chair.

"What is your job _this_ time?"

"Ah, I'm not allowed to say.."

"Then how am I to help you?"

"Just...trust me, ok? I never take a job without good reason. So, _please_ trust me." Eleanor stared at her for a moment before shaking her head slightly.

"Fine. We'll have it your way. I still don't know what you want me to do, though." Marie stood up, and grabbed her cloak.

"I know you'll think of something. Now, I'm going to have a drink well I think...Oh and, don't tell anyone percisely who I am just yet, please." With that, Marie slipped out the doors, closing them softly behind her. Eleanor cast a glance at Marie's untouched glass as she stood, and raised an eyebrow slightly. She shrugged, looking longly out the window for a moment before walking to the doors.

Opening them, she stared out into her tavern, scanning the crowd. She watched Marie find a small table, then spotted Captain Vane himself making his way towards her. She narrowed her eyes slightly, then realized that this _could_ work to the advantage of Marie, and in turn, herself.

"Alright, Marie..." She whispered softly. "I'll trust you...But you'll have to trust me too..."

* * *

Marie leaned back in her seat after securing herself a drink, and took a tentative sip. A shuddered passed through as she blinked, then gave the liquid in her mug a distrusted look. What the hell was this stuff? She sniffed the contents of her glass, and after a few moments of thought decided it _probably_ wouldn't kill her. She took another swig.

"God..." She muttered at it. "Nothing like the brandy from back home..." But it would suffice. Perhaps, given time, she'd grow to like this stuff. For now, she'd merely tolerate it as a way to get her thoughts moving again.

_How's drinking going to help you come up with an idea?_ A small voice whispered in the back of her mind.

_It might not, but all my bett-...funner ideas come from a bottle!_ She smiled sightly to herself, and without thinking about it, downed the rest of her mug in one go. Damn it! She coughed, and shook her head before ordering a refill.

* * *

Captain Vane strolled from Eleanor's office and stopped for a moment, scanning the crowd for _her_. He had a few questions for her, though it wouldn't change his mind. She didn't belong in this world. Especially not if he had a say in it. After looking around again, and still not spotting her, he growled something under his breath about Eleanor.

_Getting a drink my ass..._

He spotted Jack and Anne 'enjoying' a couple drinks together. Vane couldn't tell if they were actually enjoying the drinks, or eachother's company for that matter. Hell, he never could. Heading over to them, he lit the cigar he rolled well talking to that woman.

"Jack, Anne..." He took a drag from his smoke, casting another glance around in case he missed her.

"Ah, Captain! Uh...Is there anything you need...?" Jack looked up at him, clearly startled by the sudden appearance of his captain. He apparently hadn't expected to see him, or at least had hoped to avoid him until they set sail. Vane blew smoke from between his lips slowly, and sighed.

"Have you seen a short girl with russet hair anytime recently? Not one of the girls from next door." Jack squinted his eyes slightly as he glanced around, confused and trying to remember.

"She left a few minutes ago with some men." Anne said, her tone void of almost all emotion. She took a drink from her mug well Jack looked at her like 'how the fuck did you know that?' Vane just turned and headed for the door, taking another drag from the cigar.

_Stupid fucking girl..._

Leaving the tavern, he stopped for a moment, listening for anything that'd give him a clue to where she was. Not hearing anything, especially due to the noise from the people enjoying themselves all around, he headed off down the street in one direction. Vane had no idea if she actually went this way, but hell, anything was worth a shot. As he passed a small alley in between buildings, he stopped, hearing voices.

"I really have to get to my room now, so if you don't mind, I'll just be go-"

"Not so fast, you ain't going anywhere~" The man's gruff voice lilted up in an attempt to sound...Who knows what the fuck he was trying to do...Vane stepped to the entrance of the alley, glancing to the people in it.

Sure enough, there was Marie, backed against a wall. Vane assumed the man leaning in way too close to her, one arm above her head, was the man who had spoken. He took another drag on his cigar, glancing beyond the man to the other two, and mentally addressed the scene for a moment. It would be no issue to simply beat the shit out of the men, however he doubt the girl would stay out of the way... As he blew the smoke from his parted lips, Marie took matters into her own hands.

With a smile that suited a saint, the girl grabbed the man's shoulder, and yanked him down. She brought her knee up into his stomach, then rammed the elbow of her other arm right between his shoulder blades. Using the force of the elbow-ramming, she knocked him to the side and thus the ground. The other two men started, and Vane raised both eyebrows slightly before strolling into the alley.

"why you...little..." One of the men lunged for her, and Marie darted to the side, going to kick him. Before her foot could connect, the other man got a hold on her and slammed her into a wall. The first man was pushing himself up, still gasping for air, when Vane reached him. Not saying a word, he kicked the man in the head, knocking him out. Well Marie attempted to escape her captor, Vane punched the man she had failed to kick. The man fell back into a wall, and pushed himself way, turning to face Vane.

Vane took a last drag from the cigar as the man went to hit him. He grunted as the fist connected with his chest.

"..." Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, he threw him to the ground and stomped his foot right into his stomach. Vane then glanced towards Marie and the last man as a cry of pain reached his ears. The man stumbled back from the girl, clutching his shoulder. The dirty shirt was already turning red, and Marie spit some blood from her mouth onto the ground. She had bitten the man...hard enough to break the skin through his shirt. While he had been dealing with the other guy, and finishing the smoke, the man had taken the liberty of ruining the girl's clothes. Her shirt was ripped open, and she pulled her cloak around herself, giving the man a look that could kill.

_She's a fucking _child!

Feeling something snap, Vane lunged for the man, and slammed him into a wall. Grabbing him by the throat, he lifted him off the ground and punched him the face. There was a rather satisfying crunch as he broke his nose, and he punched him again, and again. The man struggled, trying to free himself from Vane's grip, and the Captain punched him again.

"Charles! Enough!" He felt a hand on his arm as he pulled it back to punch him again. "Theres no reason to kill him!" Vane glared down at the girl, and she glared defiantly back up at him.

"This doesn't concern you." The man he was choking made gasping sounds, his struggles becoming weaker.

"To hell it doesn't! Release him this instant! I think your message was pretty fucking clear!"  
Her tone was that of a mother lecturing an unruly child. He stared down at her a moment, then threw the man to the ground. Then, as if to show his decision had nothing to do with her, he kicked the man. "Charles!"

Vane turned, and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her from the alley. She struggled for a moment, informing him haughtily that he was being much too rough with her, all things considered. Ignoring her and her insistent complaints, he headed down the street towards the beach.

"God damnit..." Marie scowled and bit his hand, though not hard enough to break the skin. "Listen to me-" Vane turned, yanking her around infront of him, and slammed her into a wall, pinning her there. Some drunken passerbys glanced at them, but otherwise paid them no mind.

"Listen here, girl...I just saved your li-"

"You saved _me_? I had it under control! I didn't need your-" He grabbed her chin roughly, shutting her up for a moment.

"Don't interupt me again." Vane growled at her, blue eyes blazing. Marie glared right back, her own golden ones burning with her anger towards _him_. "I might not take to it so kindly as I am today." he let go of her chin, and she responded by spitting into his face.

Charles blinked,then raised his hand to slap her. Before he did though, a mental image of her popped up. Sitting next to him, grinning up at him like a fool. He faltered, and scowled, shoving away from her. Marie blinked, then readjusted her cloak again, wondering what would happen next. Charles wiped his face with one hand.

"...Sorry..." Marie muttered, glancing away from him. He didn't say anything for a moment, debating something. There was no way he could take her...He couldn't leave her either... Vane's mind flickered back to his conversation with Eleanor for a moment, then he just sighed, starting to walk away.

"I expect you ready to sail and at the camp by dawn..."

* * *

Marie could just stare after the man, eyes widening to saucers. He didn't glance back, didn't even bothered to check that she had heard him. Just strolled away.

_He almost hit me!_ A voice suddenly screamed in her head. _And I spit in his face! Why the hell did I do that?! Ugh, whatever...I didn't need his help though! I could have easily taken all three of them...But..._

A huge goofy grin spread across her face. She raced down the street towards the inn where her room was.

_Dawn! I need sleep...But YES! I'm going to show that fucking bastard just what I can do!_

She didn't even stop to think about what changed his mind.


	4. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Sorry this took so long! I had too many ideas for this chapter haha, plus I've been doing a lot of stuff this summer DX I love reading the reviews, btw, and I hope you all like this chapter! We learn somethings about Marie lol :P Well see you next chapter XD..Also, oddly enough, I like the cook.**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – A week later**

"Captain…Are you…Uh…Listening?" Jack's nervous broke through Vane's thoughts. He glanced over at him, and just nodded at him to continue his talk. It didn't matter what the hell Jack said, he'd heard it all before. Just standard procedure when hunting.

He took a drag from his cigar, mind turning back to the idiot girl he had let on his ship. Vane hadn't actually expected to see Marie at dawn the week before, but there she was. If he had known how life on the ship would be with her…He would have gladly set sail the night before, instead of waiting till dawn.

_I could throw her overboard…_ He smirked slightly at the thought. The crew wouldn't complain, that was for sure. Marie had been trouble since she stepped onboard his ship. Literally… The little bitch had promptly gotten in the way of his crew, tripped over some rope, and crashed into one of his men who was releasing the sails. Minus a few scrapes, delayed sailing, and the urge to strangle her then and there, everything had turned out fine in the end.

But the worst had just started…

Deciding she was dangerous on deck, Vane had her sent to the kitchens. Mistake number fucking two. Not only was she utterly useless when it came to cooking, her and the cook hadn't stopped fighting. For days. Barely a bloody fucking week into the trip, and the two were still trying to kill each other.

_Maybe I should let him kill her, do us all a favor…_ Vane was mildly worried that the cook would follow through with his threat to turn her into stew, however. He wouldn't put it past him, honestly. Half of what they ate seemed to have mystery meat.

The fighting was bad enough, but the fact she tried to poison his crew…Well, she swears it was an accident. How was she to know that the meat she had used wasn't fully cooked? Or that apples _weren't_ standard in any form of stew, _especially_ if they were being left to ferment? Now…_why_ they had fermenting apples on board was another matter entirely that she didn't seem to have anything to do with.

Vane groaned aloud, and Jack shut up, eyeing his captain. He had a feeling he knew what was on his mind, but at the same time…

Vane glared up at the ceiling, lips pursing into a fine line.

_She delayed my sailing…Nearly poisoned my crew…Let's not forget that she and Anne almost fought yesterday. Damn women…Oh, and just three days ago she nearly sent three men overboard. Why? Because apparently "Stay down in the kitchens, in a corner, touching nothing" translates to "Hey! Run around on deck and try to climb the fucking riggings." Was there _anything_ she could do right?_

It was then Vane realized it was perfectly quiet. He cast a glance at Jack, and narrowed his eyes to slits.

"Jack, why the hell have you shut up?"

"You…appear to be thinking intently about something, Captain." Vane glanced at his quarter master, wondering, not for the first time, exactly why he kept him around. Well, he did seem to know what he was doing most of the time.

"Start talking." He snapped at him, putting out the remains of his cigar. Jack eyed him for a moment before continuing. Vane tilted his head to the side, trying to concentrate on what Jack was saying.

* * *

Marie stood in the kitchen, looking around, and her hands on her hips. It was disgustingly dirty, and all her attempts at cleaning have failed horribly. The cook wouldn't let her do any cleaning, and if she cooked _anything_, he took over.

"Granted…" She muttered aloud to herself. "Cooking isn't my specialty…But I clean!" Marie had learned to clean fairly well not long after starting out on her own. She had been trying to clean all week, but the cook seemed to _live_ in the kitchen. Damn him.

_He's not here at the moment though…_ She had gotten a bucket of water, from the wide expense of water around them of course, when she noticed he wasn't about. Now…Where did she start?

After a moment's debate, she decided the best place to start was the tables. The water wasn't as warm as she'd like, but she had no pot to heat it in, so it'd do. She also couldn't use fresh water because, well, they needed that to drink.

Marie dipped her rag in the water and began scrubbing at the nearest table. As she scrubbed, she thought about the last week, and felt her cheeks grow warm. She had made one blunder after another, and the more she fucked up, the madder Charles became.

_I swear…he probably _will_ hit me if I mess up again._ At least she hadn't actually fought with _him_ yet, so that was something. _I need him to trust me, at least to some extent. At the least I need him to see I can be useful._

"I wish I had an eel." She grumbled, scrubbing at a stubborn spot of dried meat. Gross. The blood stains weren't coming out, but she could get the food out. As for the eel, it was the _only_ thing she could cook even decently. Or so she told herself.

"What the blazing fucking hells do _ye _think _you're_ doing?!" The cook's voice cut through her thoughts like a cleaver through a head. Marie froze, then cast a look at the bear-gut cook, and wrinkled her nose slightly.

"I'm cleaning. It's disgusting in here, and the _old dried meat_ on this table was getting to me." The cook blinked, then lunged for her, and grabbed her roughly by the arm.

"Cleanin' are ye? If I wanted the place clean, I'd let ya know!" He yelled in her face, shaking her. She dropped her head, hair falling in her face successfully hiding her scowl. "I clean this place up just fine, ya little bitch. Ye ain't allowed to touch a _thing_, do ya hear me? I ain't got a use for ya, but I can think of one _real_ fast if you're _itching_ to do something."

Marie felt something snap as he shoved her against the table and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. He leaned in closer, continuing on his little rant. Marie had a fairly good idea what he would come up with. She was fucking _sick_ of this man.

"_Let go of me."_ Her voice dropped to the same cold voice she had used on Charles at the beach, cutting the man mid-rant.

"'Cuse me, _what_ did ye say?" He growled at her, tightening his grip on her arm. She glowered up at him, feeling her hatred grow.

"I said…Let go of me!" Marie slammed her palm into his chin, snapping his head back. She twisted her arm free and kicked him away from her. He fell against the other table with a crash, but managed to stay mostly on his feet. Marie leapt forward, and grabbed him by the hair, kicking him in the back of the knees. As he crumbled, she slammed his head into the table and held him there. He was too stunned at the turn of events to move just yet.

Marie pulled out one of her knifes and brought it close to his eyes. She watched as awareness filled his eyes again and they widened slightly.

"Now listen closely…You are going to allow me to do what I wish in this fucking kitchen, regardless of what it is, or I'll take one of your eyes out." The cook didn't respond right away so she pressed the tip into the skin below the eye, drawing a little blood. He gave a slight start, and tried not to tremble. "A simple nod will suffice." She growled at him.

"Actually…" Said an all too familiar voice came from the doorway. "I think you better let him go, Marie." She glanced over at Charles, who was standing in the doorway, a storm cloud brewing around him. Marie eyed him for a moment, then let go of the cook's hair and stepped back. The cook fell fully to his knees, shaking with relief. "Now, tell me what the fuck is going on in here."

"Ca…Captain! I was just _cleaning_" The cook said, motioning towards the bucket and rag, "When this little…whore came out of nowhere and attacked me!" Marie blinked, then let out her breath in a hiss, eyes blazing.

"_Liiiies!_ I was the on-" The Captain silenced her off with a stone-hard glare, then looked at the cook. He strolled into the room, and dragged the cook to his feet.

"So _that's_ why you were threatening her, am I fucking right?" The cook blinked, then paled slightly. Marie narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth but then thought better of it. She could fight her own battles, but somehow she knew that Charles wasn't doing this for _her_. She'd be in trouble with him shortly, she could _sense_ it.

"Captain…"

"She is down here in the damn kitchens to be useful, not for your own amusement."

"I…but she…ye see…I told her not to do anything…And she…so I was just, ya know, scaring her a little…Giving her an idea if she diso-" Marie jumped as Charles floored the cook, not expecting that. She watched him drag the cook back up and onto the table, holding him there, fists balled up in his shirt.

"She isn't a fucking slave, she is a member of this damn crew, and if you don't like it, find yourself a new ship to cook for." He growled down at him, blue eyes as cold as ice. He shoved away from him, and turned, grabbing Marie by the arm. "_You're_ coming with me." Charles hauled her from the kitchen, leaving the cook where he was.


	5. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: Sorry about the wait! I've been really busy! Anyways, I love reading the reviews :)! So heres the next chapter, and I'm going to try to get the one after this finished faster! haha XD**

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**Chapter 4 - About 10 Minutes Later**

"Give me one reason not to throw you overboard. _Now._" Vane growled at the girl, who merely stared defiantly back at him. They were in his cabin, and he stood between her and the door. They had been arguing ever since he had hauled her from the kitchens. Hell, he had to throw her over his shoulder to keep her from gnawing his fucking arm off. The crew would be talking about this for days...

"How would I know that you won't toss me overboard anyways?" She growled at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Marie..." The warning in his tone actually _did_ get a reaction out of the stupid woman. She stiffened slightly, and eyed him a little more warily. Good.

"Grr...Uh...I _can_ fight." Marie said a little pointedly. Vane narrowed his eyes at her, and she shifted her weight uneasily. "I can cook eel...Only eel...I CAN clean!" She fell silent for a moment.

"You _also_ told me you could sail."

"On a boat with less people, yes." He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off quickly. "As for a reason, I don't know you expect me to say. 'Please, Captain! Don't throw me overboard! I can read, write, _and_ count!' Is that a good enough reason?"

"...What else can you do?" Vane moved to his desk, and started to roll a cigar, back to her.

"...I...can sew...Dance...Paint...Play the piano...I'm a horrible singer though..." She sounded resigned,and her voice had become monotone. With a jolt he realized she was listing everything her family had taught her as if she had done it a thousand times before. Probably had. "I can ride a horse wonderfully, or so I've been told...I have a knack for reciting dramas...I'm good at keeping people in line..." She continued on like this.

"Shut up!" He snapped, and lit his cigar, taking a long drag. When he turned around, Marie stared at him, her face lacking any emotion.

"Are any of those good enough reasons, Captain?"

"Shut up." Vane took another drag, eyeing her, and briefly wondered exactly what had happened in her life to subdue her so suddenly like this. Then he wondered what she could possible be useful for. "...You'll mend clothes, and the sails if need be. Do you have any medical skills?" She started, blinking, and looked at him in disbelief for a moment. Fuck, he better not regret this.

"Er, yes I do! I fix myself up all the time!" She said it without thinking, and had to keep herself from freezing up. Vane took another drag from his cigar.

"...Alright...Now get the fuck out. Go...help with medical stuff. And stay away from the damn kitchens."

* * *

Marie took a deep breath of the fresh air, leaning back against Charles' cabin door. She felt eyes on her, and upon glancing around, realized almost everyone was watching her curiously. Scowling slightly, she moved away from the door and went to lean against the railing. Her talk with Charles had brought back some...interesting memories.

Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts aside quickly. The past was just that, the _past_. Her thoughts turned to Charles, and she realized she had pissed him off and _still_ avoided getting hit. It was starting to trouble her. Not that she wanted to get hit, but she heard stories of Charles punching people, regardless of gender, for much less than what she's put him through.

"So, did the Captain decide ye were more trouble than yer worth?" A gruff voice growled from nearby, and she cast a cool glance at a group of her fellow crew members.

"Actually, no. He reassigned me, that's all. Now I'm on medical duty!" She flashed them all a huge grin, loving how a few paled. "So I suggest you better be nicer to me. I may...accidentally allow a wound to fester~" With that, she turned on her heel, walking away from them. In reality, she wanted to beat the fucking crap out of them. All of them. Whole damn crew.

"Frankly, I think my childhood self didn't realize how much work this would be..." She muttered at herself crossly, then set off to find the ship's doctor.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Sorry the last chapter was so short. I had sudden inspiration for this one, so I wanted to finish that one as soon as possible haha. THIS ONE HAS VIOLENCE AND YELLING. It's also, I believe, the longest chapter so far O.o So I hope you enjoy! XD**

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**Chapter 5 - Two Days Later**

Marie clutched the wall she just fell against, trying to stop her mind from reeling with the movement of the ship. She groaned, and decided she better stop her stomach reeling too. The storm was bad, but based off what some of the crew said, it wasn't the worst storm any of them had encountered. Shoving herself away from the wall, she continued down the hall, heading for the steps leading up to the deck.

The doc's words echoed in her mind about it being more dangerous up there. She didn't give a fuck, at least up there the rain might cool her off. It was hotter than hell down there, what with most of the crew below decks out of the rain.

"Oh, brave pirates...pushed below decks by a little water...uuugggh...Stop moving, damnit!" She snapped at the ship as she headed up the stairs. On deck, what crew members were up there were working hard to keep the ship steady. It occurred to her then that maybe so many were below deck to conserve some energy for being out here. "...Probably not." She growled, and gasped as the ship rocked violently. She slide, stumbling to her right and crashed into the railing.

She'd only been out here not even a couple of minutes, and she was already getting soaked. Shaking her head, she gazed around the dark deck, trying to spot _somewhere_ that might be a little more sheltered. The ship rocked again, causing her to hang tightly onto the railing to avoid falling or going overboard. Once it was save to move again she made her way to what _might_ have been crates quickly. If she could put them between herself and the railing, she might not go overboard.

The young woman managed to reach the crates without further incident, and sank down against them. She'd slide, she knew, but at least this was better than clinging against the railing. Gazing up at the dark sky, she briefly wondered if they'd run into a lot of storms like this one. Great timing too; they had been hoping to catch one of their hunting targets in the next day or so. Her thoughts were broken as she slid a bit, and she grabbed the edge of a crate to steady herself.

"Ugh...I hate storms.." She growled to herself, then thought about the last two days. Since being 'relocated', or 'reassigned', nothing bad had happened. She didn't even hear snide comments as she walked by. I guess they're actually afraid she _would_ let a wound fester...That's pretty bad. Not like she could keep the doctor from stopping her. It's good nothing had happened. Vane needed to believe she was useful if he was ever going to even remotely trust her. And she need him to trust her, desperately.

The problem was...she hadn't seen him in the past two days. Well, thats not true. She'd _seen_ him, from a distance, for brief moments. Beyond that? Nothing! How the hell was this going to work if she never saw the man unless he was mad at her?!

"Fuck!" She gasped as the boat rocked extra violently, knocking her away from her crates. As she had been sitting, she's just flung onto her face. Growling, Marie started to push herself up when boots came into view and stopped infront of her.

"Marie? Damn woman, what the hell are you doing up here?" She glanced up to see Jack standing there, soaked, staring down at her like 'what the fuck.' To be heard over the roaring of the waves and rain, he had to yell.

"Oh...you know...swimming." Standing, she pushed her hair from her face.

"Right...uh...You shouldn't be here...Go back..below decks.." He had a that 'yes, I _think_ that's right' look on his face for a moment when the boat lurched again. Jack fell into her, slamming her back against the crates, and knocking the breath out of her. She heard him grunt next to her ear from the impact, then he shifted, bracing his arms against the crates on either side of her. The boat continued rocking violently for a moment, forcing Marie and Jack closer together. Neither of them fell,braced against the crates as they were.

Marie could, through the rain, smell _him; _he smelt like an unwashed man, with the hint of _something_ else. Probably Anne. As the boat stopped lurching for a second, he pushed back a bit, panting from the strain of keeping them both there. He cast a glance up briefly at the sky, cursing the weather before looking down at her.

"Are..you alright?" She nodded, and he stepped back, firmly grasping her arm. "Right then. Below decks with you.." Jack turned, starting to haul her back. If she wasn't trying so hard to keep her balance, she would have tried to pull back more. Plus, his grip was like iron anyways, so it probably wouldn't have mattered. She contented herself with shooting eye-daggers at his soaked back.

In the end, it was his grip that was about the only thing keeping her from falling when the boat lurched again. She cursed under her breath as he pulled her up against his side to help steady her. He was much better at staying upright than she was. Marie glared up at him, and he just pretended not to notice or care.

"Jack! What the hell is taking you!" They both looked over as Charles came up, shaking his head slightly to clear his eyes a bit. The moment he saw Marie, he scowled. "Fuck. Why are you...?" He shook his head, scowl deepening. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Vane didn't give him a chance, hauling Marie roughly from his side. She slipped, falling against Charles' chest. He instinctively wrapped his other arm around to steady her as the boat rocked again, almost knocking all of them over.

Charles turned and hauled her across the deck, away from Jack. She started to protest, but thought better of it when she almost slipped again. Her hatred of boats was slowly increasing.

* * *

Vane flung open the door of his cabin, shoving her in. Why the hell he'd dragged her here he didn't know, but this is where his feet had taken him. He stepped in after her, and slammed the door shut behind him. She stood a few feet away, rubbing her arm, and eyeing him with unveiled annoyance. He stared at her a moment, taking her in. She was soaked..no...drenched. Her hair was so sodden with water, it was more wavy than curly; probably be a bigger mess too when it dried. Clothes though...He narrowed his eyes slightly, and stalked to his desk.

He felt her eyes on him, and he took a deep breath as he picked up a bottle from his desk. Taking a swig, Vane decided he _had_ to keep his cool.

"Why were you on the deck?" He turned, leaning against his desk, and watched her. Marie didn't answer right away, just stood there rubbing her arms for a moment, brow furrowed. He took another swig, and waited. Finally she sighed.

"I...needed air. Even rain filled air was better than being below deck." She muttered, and he felt his annoyance stir. Damn her. "Plus...I rather like storms...Just not on boats."

"Ships."

"...Fine. _Ships_. Either way...I needed air...I was by some crates when Jack found me. He _was_ taking me back below deck when you found us.." Shit. Jack. Vane kinda left him standing on the deck, alone. The he remembered the way he had been when he walked up, and got over any thought concerning Jack for awhile. He realized that Marie was quiet, and glanced at her. She had turned her back to him, and was rubbing her arms again, shivering.

"..." He turned, walking over to his and yanked the blanket off. Vane then headed towards her. He dropped the blanket on her head, successfully draping it on her. Marie jumped, instinctively grabbing the edges as she looked up at him. "You'll catch a cold.." Vane took another swig from his bottle then offered it to her. After a moments thought she reached out carefully from the blanket and took it.

Vane watched her intently as she took a small sip. She wrinkled her nose, but took a longer second drink anyways. Snorting from the taste, she handed it back to him, and he chuckled, taking it.

"Why did you bring me here?" Blunt, and straight to the point, as usual. Vane glanced down at her, and shrugged.

"Storms letting up."

"You didn't answer my question...! And how do you know?!"

"_Ranger_ hasn't suddenly lurched in quite a bit."

"...You're right...And the rain doesn't sound as..loud..." She tilted her head, listening. Vane watched her for a moment, watching the light play off her features. With a loud curse, he turned away and stalked to his desk, tense and agitated. Slamming his bottle down, he didn't need to turn around to know he had startled her.

"Charles...?" He didn't respond, and heard her soft footsteps come up behind him. Then he felt her hand lightly touch his arm, and glanced down at her worried eyes. "Whats wrong...?"

"Don't." He growled down at her. Her brow furrowed, and she narrowed her eyes slightly, unconsciously stepping closer.

"Don't what...?"

"Do you even realize the situation you're in?" Vane snapped, glaring down at her.

"Situation...? What the hell are you-"

Vane snarled something, and grabbed her, pushing her infront of him and into the desk. With his other hand he yanked the blanket, tossing it aside.

"_This_ situation." He growled, pinning her to the desk, hands on either side of her. He leaned down closer to her, face inches from hers. "Do you...realize..." Vane dropped his gaze, taking her in, slowly, intently. She stiffened, and crossed her arms over her chest quickly. "Being here.."

"YOU dragged me here!" She snapped, angrily, her eyes blazing. Vane frowned at her.

"Do you know what could have happened if the men saw you like this? How fucking distracting you are? You can be?" Marie had gone perfectly still, staring up at him with wide eyes. "No, you don't, clearly!" Vane leaned in even closer, growling softly at her. "The men have no damn respect for you, they'd have no fucking problem taking you, storm or no storm. Over and ov-"

The sound of flesh on flesh, the sharp pain, snapped him out of his state momentarily. He looked down at her, her eyes blazing, hand still raised to slap him again. Her golden eyes had darkened with her angers, her cheeks flushed, nad she was panting with her anger.

He backhanded her.

Marie crashed back against the desk with a gasp, steadying herself with a hand. She stood there for a second, processing what happened, then turned her head slightly to glare at him.

"Do that again, and it'll be worse." Vane snapped at her, and pushed away from the desk. Her lips curled up into a sneer as she regarded him.

"Right back at you!" He opened his mouth to say something, but she shoved past him and ran from the room.

* * *

Marie ran back onto the deck, tears in her eyes from the pain. Her cheek stung, no; stung wasn't a good enough word to describe the pain. For a moment her vision had gone out, and if she wasn't use to taking hits, she might have passed out. She ran across the deck, the rain a light drizzle now, and headed below deck. She thought she heard someone call her name, but she ignored it.

Racing down the hall, she went to the doc's small room, flinging the door open. He jumped, turning to look at her as she closed the door quickly behind her. No one else seemed to be there.

"Marie...? My god, your face."

"it's nothing." She snapped, ducking around her, but he grabbed her arm, and forced her to look at him. He sucked in his breath.

"What did you do..?" She knew what he meant.

"...I hit him first. Well, I slapped him. He merely returned the favor..."

"Return the favor? Bloody hell, you probably barely scratch him." He snapped, and made her sit down well he fussed over her. She let him, mind reeling about the events that had taken place with Charles. Damn him!

_Why did I have to fucking him?! Fucking bastard! Talking like that..._ She shivered at the memory. He was right there...Damnit...

* * *

Vane stood in his quarters, staring after Marie for a moment. With a growl, and a cuss word, he swept most of the items off his desk. The crashing noise took several seconds to leave his brain.

"Fuck!" What the hell had he been thinking? Talking to her like that...Hitting her. She hit him first, but...It was already bruising when she left...Damn it. What did it matter.

He looked around for his bottle, only to see it had shattered when it hit the floor. Fuck.

"Er...Captain..." Jack's voice broke through his thoughts. He cast him a side-long glance, feeling his anger redirect itself at him.

"What the hell do you want?" Jack blinked, clearly surprised, but hurried to speak.

"Well...I was wondering what happened...Marie was running...like a demon was after her...I could swear she was crying, but with the...er...rain..." He trailed off, noticing that Vane had gone still, just radiating anger.

"Get out."

"Bu..."

"It's none of your fucking business!" Vane turned, stalking towards Jack, who decided that perhaps leaving _was_ in his best interest. Vane slammed the door after him, and stood there a moment, one hand on the door. He closed his eyes, cursing himself again.

An image conjured itself into his brain of a small girl, wide eyes staring up at him from the ground where he had pinned her. Innocent. Sweet.

What the hell had happened to _that_?

The image was replaced by a young woman, standing there, eyes blazing with anger, cheek turning red, hair a wild mess as it dried.

Nine days out at sea...The woman was a plague on his ship. Damn her to fucking hell.

"Need more damn booze..."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Late that night  
**

_"Marie...You look lovely tonight." The cool, collected voice came from the chamber doorway. She felt herself tense slightly, and forced herself to relax. Raising her golden eyes from her reflection to his, she warily watched the man who spoke stroll into her room, his eyes fastened to hers. _

_"Your Grace..." She turned, and smiled up at him. He didn't respond, just dropped his gaze to take in the neckline of her dress. His lips thinned slightly, jaw tightening, and she felt her heart clench._

_"Where did you get this...lovely gown, my dear?" The coldness in his voice...She licked her suddenly dry lips._

_"...Tis was a gift, Your Grace. From Lady Rowan...She begged me to wear it tonight. It is her party we will be attending..." His brown eyes, nearly black in his anger, met hers. Once, she would have thought this man beautiful. Now she merely wished everyone could see how ugly he was._

_"Yes...It _is_ her party we will be attending. We shouldn't disappoint her." He reached a glove hand up and stroked her cheek gently. It took all her will power not to flinch. "When the night is over, you will burn it." With that, the man, her Duke and husband, turned to leave the room._

_"No.." The word was out before she could stop it. He stilled, stopping dead in his tracks. "Ah...I mean...it is...a very expensive...gown...maybe...we can..."_

_Turning, he strolled back to her, and without hesitation, yanked her up off her stool roughly. Marie tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, pressing her to his side. She whimpered as he grabbed her chin with his other hand, forcing to look up at him._

_"I didn't realize I had married a whore." He growled at her._

_"Please...I didn't mean that...I'm not a a whore..Richard..." Scowling at her, he released her chin._

_"Oh, obviously not. You _are_ still in the gown." He snapped, and grabbed the edge of the neckline, ignoring her protests as she tried to push away from him. Richard yanked, ripping the front of the beautiful blue dress down to her waist. "Now you're a whore." He shoved her roughly away, and she tripped, falling to her knees with a gasp. Marie sat there a minute, willing the pain in her legs to fade. She felt him draw closer, and flinched as he crouched down next to her. His breath wafted over her ear._

_"I suggest you hold your tongue next time. I'd hate to have to strike you." __He stood then, and turned towards the door. She looked after him, and noticed her maid in the doorway, frozen. Richard didn't react, just strolled towards the door. The girl jumped aside, quickly curtsying, with a mumbled 'yer grace'._

_"Make sure the Duchess has suitable attire within the hour." He stopped just beyond the doorway, and looked back at Marie. He opened his mouth to say something, but blood came out instead. And then he was choking, a knife in his belly, and they were surrounded by darkness._

_It was Marie's hands on the handle of the blade, stained red with blood. _

_She jumped back, but he grabbed her, and they fell, his hands closing around her throat. She struggled, gasping for hair, watching the flesh melt away from him._

_"I'll see you in Hell...!" He rasped at her._

Marie sat bolt upright in her cot, gasping for air, one hand clenched over her heart. Damnit!

"Even in death...Why can't you leave me be?!" She hissed to herself, and fell backwards onto the pillow. She didn't sleep the rest of the night.

* * *

The next day, Marie stood on the deck of _Ranger_, staring out at their target. It was still a long ways off, but the lookout swore it was the ship they were after. Leaning against the railing, she wondered how well this would go. She sighed softly, and glanced up at the sky.

How many would be injured? Not many, she was guessing. The goal was to get them to surrender, then take their cargo. But there would be injuries, she was sure.

She mentally started listing all the medical supplies they currently had. There had been a few injuries due to fights since they left New Providence Island, but nothing too serious. The sound of footsteps broke through her thoughts, and turning her head, she saw Charles approaching. Marie looked back towards their prey as he slowed to a stop next to her. She could feel his eyes on her, and she wished he'd leave. She'd be avoiding him for the past couple days as, frankly, she was pissed.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever before he finally spoke.

"Does it hurt?" She blinked, and glanced up at him. He was leaning against the railing, regarding the bruise on her cheek with a furrowed brow.

"...Not as much as it did, but yes, it does." Charles just barely nodded, the lines on his forehead easing slightly. She felt her anger stir, the urge to lash out at him increasing. He turned to gaze out at the other ship. She could push him over, right here, right now. She'd be caught, sure, but she could do it...End this whole thing...

_I hit him first. He's an arrogant ass, but pushing him over will solve nothing._

"If that ship doesn't surrender, stay out of it." She looked at him sharply, but he just turned and walked away.

Bastard!

With a growl, she shoved herself away from the railing and headed below decks.

* * *

Vane gazed at the other ship, watching it draw was tense, excitement thrumming through him.

"Raise the black!" He called out, and watched his flag slowly raise into the air. Then he looked back at the ship.

The air was filled with tension, wondering what would happen.

The white flag of surrender didn't raise, and the ship was turning to face them.

Vane couldn't help it, he felt himself smiling slightly. Yes, its easier for them to just surrender, however, this way was more dangerous, and funner.

* * *

**Author's Note: Great to read all the reviews. This one is kinda short compared to the last one, haha. Anyways, we got a glimpse into the past. But I think the question is...Did Marie kill Richard or does she merely blame herself for his untimely demise? :P XD Hahaha. See ya'll next chapter! Sorry about the short, tense filled part about the ship and flag and all. (b-.-)b**


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait on this one! Been really busy lately trying to get _everything_ done for graduation! :) Done, ready, and can't wait for the day haha XD**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Vane stood on the deck of the other ship, watching his men loading the goods onto his own. In the end, his crew had few injuries, and killed most of the other crew before they finally surrendered. Vane himself was injured, but he planned to ignore it for now. He took a drag from his cigar, and walked to where the other ship's remaining crew were.

"I have taken your ship, taken your cargo, and killed your friends. Now I give a choice. Stay here, on this crew, with the man who chose to fight, resulting in this outcome, or ya can have balls and brains to join mine." Vane took another drag of the cigar, noting the unrest in the crew. Finally, one man spoke.

"Why should we join you? As you said, you took our ship by force, killing men we knew, and are stealing the cargo we defended! What benefi-"

"Why? I am offering you freedom, and the chance to be what you are - Men, with a will of your own. A chance to not have a tyrant who doesn't care for you _rule_ over you, but to decide for yourselves who follow. Power, fear of the people...Respect. But if you're too coward to take it..." He turned, starting to walk away.

"Wait!" A different voice, that one. "I'll join your crew, if you'll have me." He glanced over his shoulder, watching the young man who had spoken try not to flinch at the cries of traitor. After a moment, another man joined him, but that was it. Vane inclined his head towards the _Ranger_, and then went to cross back over to her himself. As he walked, he felt the pain in his side worsen a bit, and decided that maybe he'd pay the little fire-ball a visit. Besides that conversation earlier, he hadn't really seen or spoken to her in a couple days.

* * *

Marie was busy trying to dig a bullet out of a man's shoulder. It was a gruesome task, and the damn fool wouldn't stay still for it. For fuck's sake, he's lucky the damn thing didn't hit anywhere else or break or something! Could he be grateful? No.

"I swear, if you don't fucking hold still, I'm going to take this fucking bullet and SHOVE IT INTO YOUR PENIS!" She raised her voice at the last part due to the fact he jerked again, causing her fingers to slip off the damn thing. Again. Suddenly though he went quite still, and she wondered briefly if she should be worried he took her seriously.

_Maybe..._ She thought to herself, finding the bullet again. _...I would do it. So his concern is just..._

Finally, she yanked the bullet out, grumbling at the poor man as she applied pressure to the wound with a cloth. Really, you'd think he'd have had the decency to _pass out_ after getting shot, but no. _He_ had to be awake, and fighting her. She felt the bleeding lessen, and after a few more minutes removed the cloth. With a sigh, she set about sewing the wound shut, still grumbling at the man.

"How do you think he'll do, Marie?" The Doc asked, coming to stand next to her in the small cramped room.

"Can't say. He has a strong fighting spirit, but fever..." She shook her head as she finished her task, and was relieved to see that the man had fallen unconscious. Good. "Theres a chance he'll make it though." The Doc nodded, and went to check on one of the other less injured men. The one who got shot was actually the worst injured out of all of them.

A few minutes later, as she washed her hands, she heard the sound of footsteps and someone stop behind her. Somehow she just _knew_ she was going to hate seeing who it was, so continued to scrub her hands clean in the bucket of water before her. He shifted closer, and Marie stiffened just slightly, acutely aware of his foreboding presence.

"Marie." Charles' grumbled her name lowly down at her.

"Yes, Captain?"

"...I've been injured." Marie blinked, and then turned to look up at the man.

"What the hell did you do?" She growled up at him, and he narrowed his eyes at her slightly, opting not to answer. She glowered at him for a moment before noticing the blood on the right side of his shirt. "...Sit over there." Marie motioned to what was probably the Doc's cot, and turned to grab some fresh cloth. Charles reached out and grabbed her forearm, firmly but gently.

"Not here." His voice left no room for argument, and after a moment she sighed, shaking herself free with a nod. The man turned and strolled from the Doc's room, heading towards his own quarters. After grabbing her supplies, and a bucket of somewhat fresh water, Marie took off after him.

As she came onto the deck of the ship, she nearly ran into some man carrying a barrel. However, they managed to avoid any incident, filling her with more than a small amount of satisfaction. She spotted Charles waiting for her across the way, and headed towards him, starting to brood again. It was about two days before that she had been in that room with him, and they had come to blows...Well slaps, but they counted, right?

She followed Charles back into his room, glaring at his broad back. She imagined taking a knife and stabbing him, but pushed the idea aside. Skinning him would be more fun. They entered the room, and Charles waved her pass him before closing the door. Marie half expected the room to look exactly like it had when she left, but it didn't.

In fact, it looked much worse. The blanket was back on the bed, but there were papers and broken glass all over the place. Some papers appeared to have been gathered up, but the majority of items that had been on Charles' deck during the storm were everywhere. Literally.

"What the fuck...?!"

"Ignore it." He grunted at her, walking pass her, already stripping to his waist. She blinked, feeling her cheeks grow warm as the bare skin of his back was exposed. With a shake of her head, she chided herself, demanding to know what did she think was going to happen? Of course he'd have to remove his shirt. Charles sat down in his chair, and looked at her expectantly. With a sigh, she walked over and set her supplies down on the desk.

"Right then...Lets see what you did..." Marie turned to Charles, and immediately looked at the several inch long gash on his right side, sucking in her breath in a small gasp. The bleeding had nearly stopped, only a little bit oozing every now and then. "Stitches." She said bluntly, and then turned, dipping a rag in the bucket. After wringing it out, she turned back to him, concentrating solely on the wound as she knelt next to him to wash it.

"How exactly did this happen?"

"Fight." He replied gruffly, watching her disinterestedly. Marie scowled slightly, shooting a glare up at him.

"...Clearly...Not what I asked. I said _ex-_"

"I know what you said." It was clear he didn't give a damn though. She glared at him, and rinsed the cloth, mentally cursing him. Marie resumed washing the blood away, lips pursed into a fine line. Charles sighed after a moment, shifting, and she growled at him.

"Don't move!" Charles snorted, and she scowled at him, standing up. "I mean it." She turned, setting the cloth aside and grabbed her needle and thread. Ignoring him for a moment, she threaded the needle carefully, pulling the thread until she had more than enough for her task. Picking up a pair of old scissors, she neatly snips it, and turns back to him. "This is probably going to hurt."

Marie knelt next to him again, and set about sewing the wound shut, yanking the thread through first. Charles didn't react, and just watched her as she growled things at him, roughly sewing his wound closed.

"I can't believe you allowed this happened." She muttered at him, yanking the thread through again, tugging it roughly to make extra sure it was a close stitch. Every time she made some comment, she made sure he knew she was displeased with him. Charles never reacted, which only annoyed her even more. "What is with idiot men" - another yank - "and getting themselves injured then try to act tough about it? You'd think they'd have enough brains" -Tug- "to avoid serious injuries. But nooo!"" Really hard yank. Charles didn't bat an eyelash, and even stifled a yawn at the last part.

_Damn man..._ She reached the end of his wound, and tied the stitches off with one final tug.

"If you're through.." He never even flinched during the whole process, and stood up, as if dismissing her. Marie stood up as well, feeling annoyance shift to anger again.

"I am _not_ through. I have to bandage it."

"Leave it."

Marie scowled, watching him grab his shirt, and then darted forward, snatching said shirt from it. He blinked, and glanced down at her, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I will _not_ leave it." She growled up at him, and Charles smiled slightly at her. He leaned down until his face was inches from hers, and she stiffened, feeling her cheeks grow warm again. Charles grabbed the shirt, and pulled it from her grasp.

"I said leave it.." He said calmly, looking her right in the eyes, before stepping back and yanking on the shirt. She stood there, blinking, and watched him leave the room.

"...Wh...what...what the fuck just...happened?!"

* * *

**Went a little weird there lol. Idk, I just couldn't keep from writing that part like that, so I went with it :) XD... Hope you enjoyed. :P**


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